Judy's Bad Day
by StuFox
Summary: Judy and Nick discover there's more to life in the ZPD than just catching criminals.
1. Judy's Bad Day

CHAPTER 1

"Judy's Bad Day"

Bogo expected a hive of activity when crime scene tape was lifted and his squad car permitted through, but instead he saw a lot of uniforms standing around, talking in pairs and EMTs slouching against their ambulances. The ZFD was busy enough putting up yellow tarps around the smoking wreck of a crumpled mini-van. On the far sidewalk, behind the tape, the looky-lous were gathered, craning their necks to get a glimpse of the carnage. The media had gathered as well, their camera lights flashing blue-white in the fading daylight.

"This is going to be a bad day," he thought.

Sliding out of his cruiser, he asked aloud, "Whose scene is this?"

Francine, the elephant officer, stepped forward.

"Officer Hopps," she replied. Everyone was looking in their direction.

"And where might I find Officer Hopps?" he asked.

Francine motioned her head towards one of the ambulances. "Behind there with Wilde," she said, then, softly, "Chief -"

"What is it, Francine?" he asked, all business.

"This is a bad one," she finished simply.

The yellow tarps now in place, the firefighters began the grim job of cutting into the van with the Jaws of Life – terribly misnamed in this case. Bogo didn't need to see what they were after, he could smell it.

* * *

He found Hopps and Wilde behind the ambulance. Wilde was kneeling, back towards Bogo, and holding Hopps. The first thing he noticed was Judy's eyes. Those same violet eyes that had always been sparkling with life before now stared at some indeterminate point on the horizon, pupils wide. Tears poured down her cheeks like the blood running from her small paws as she gripped the fox's back. Her ears were flat against her head. Parts of her uniform were torn and smeared with blood. He could see she was shaking. Looking away for a second, he saw half his squad lined up and watching the scene. Too many officers with too little to do, but he understood why they were there.

He also knew the Hopps was on a precipice, and he planned to pull her back.

"Officer Hopps," he said sternly.

"She's in shock," Wilde replied in the cool tone he used when he was irritated. Holding the rabbit tightly, he didn't turn his head to look at his chief.

Bogo ignored him, looking at Hopps as she stared blankly into the distance.

"Office HOPPS," he said, straightening up his solid frame to loom above the smaller pair, "I need a situation report - what happened here?"

"I said she's in SHOCK," Wilde said angrily, now turning to face his Chief. He green eyes were narrowed. That look always pissed Bogo off, but he swallowed it for the moment and tried one more time.

"HOPPS," he said directly, crouching down to look directly into her blank eyes, "Situation report."

"'Come on, Hopps, come back to us,'" he thought. Memories of his time in the Marines began to creep in, the times he'd seen that same look on mammals that had seen too much. That same lost, uncomprehending stare was now fixed on Hopp's face. He fought the memories back and focused on the task at hand.

"Maaybe you didn't hear me, but I said she's in SHOCK," Wilde said in the one tone that always got directly under Bogo's skin - the same smarmy tone he'd used on the chief the night they first met. "We can't all be 24-karat hard-asses like you, or maybe you just don't care about -"

That did it. Bogo stood up, then snarled at the fox, "I don't care about the snarky names you call me behind my back; I don't care about your vulgar insinuations. But if you say I don't care about my officers, I'm going to stuff my hoof down your throat. You got that, FOX?" He poked Nick hard in the chest for emphasis.

Flashes from the cameras went off, followed by the cricket-like sound of shutters closing.

All conversation stopped and everyone's attention turned to the pair.

Eyes wide with surprise, Wilde looked back at Bogo. The two stared at each other for long seconds, neither saying a word, until Hopps spoke.

"It caught fire so quick . . ." she said in a weak whisper. Both Wilde and Bogo looked down at her. "I tried to get the door open, but it was jammed," she continued in her weak, shaky voice, "And then it caught fire. I pulled so hard and the door wouldn't open." She looked at her cut, bleeding paws and said, "I think I hurt myself."

Wilde looked in the direction where the rest of the squad was watching, then turned to Bogo and said, "Maybe you care, but what's THEIR excuse? Why didn't ONE of them come over to comfort her?"

"I've had enough of you – my office, tomorrow morning," Bogo shot back, "Now get her to an EMT before I send YOU to one!"

Scooping up his partner in his arms, Wilde walked to the back of the ambulance where he laid her on a waiting stretcher.

"It's ok, officer," the cougar EMT said as he covered Judy's shaking body with a blanket, "she's in good hands now."

* * *

By the time Judy's paws were stitched up, covered in bandages and gloved in purple latex, 3:00am had come and gone. Nick still seethed. Judy's eyes continue to focus and unfocus and her tremors subsided and returned.

The on-call physician, a wolfess outfitted in pink scrubs, pulled Nick aside.

"You're her partner?" she asked, "Officer . . ." she looked at his badge, "Wilde?"

Nick nodded, "Yes, Doctor . . ." he looked at her nametag, "Childers?"

"Childers, yes. Ok, she's still somewhat in shock. I'd admit her, but I think it'd be better for her to be home where she feels safe," the wolfess said, then pulled an orange bottle of pills out of her side pocket. "If things get bad, give her one-half of one of these. They're strong and she's a little bunny, but they'll help her relax. What she really needs is someone to be there with her. She needs a good friend right now."

Nick smiled a little and nodded. "I'll be there for her," he said.

"One more thing: she has limited use of her paws. She needs to stay off active duty for at least week. I'll file the paperwork with the department. She can take care of basic hygiene by herself, but she'll probably need help with everything else. Are you up to the job, Officer Wilde?"

For the first time in hours, he laughed a little. "Born ready, Doc. And thanks for everything."

* * *

Dawn was breaking when the pair trudged tiredly into Judy's apartment. Nick lay Judy down on her bed and she closed her eyes. As he pulled the blanket over her, her breathing became deep and even.

"Carrots?" he whispered to her. She didn't move. He smiled and sat down on the floor. The sun was already up, and exhaustion settled into his bones. His eyelids fluttered, and then slowly closed.

"Just for a couple of minutes," he told himself before he slumped to the floor.

He awoke to Judy's panicked voice: "They can't get out! Someone help me, PLEASE!"

He sat up abruptly and turned to the bed where the rabbit was thrashing under the covers. Jumping to his feet, he shook her hard. Her eyes snapped open and she looked directly past him.

"They're on fire! They're screaming - help me get them out!" Her focus was locked somewhere beyond Nick and she pawed desperately at his chest. "They're screaming!"

He'd never seen that kind of fear on Judy's face before and it scared him. He grabbed her by the shoulders and held her down on the bed.

"It's ok - it's ok," he kept repeating to her over and over, looking into her wild eyes. "You're at home and you're safe . . . please, Judy . . ."

She looked into his eyes and her focus returned. In a scared voice said, "I keep hearing them scream." He could feel her heart pounding.

He nodded sympathetically to her. "It alright - you're home now and it's over." He remembered the pills. "The doctor gave me something for you. It'll help you sleep."

"No drugs; you know how I feel about that," she said.

"You haven't slept in over a day. You had a terrible experience. You're running on pure adrenaline. You need something to counter-act what you're putting your body through right now. Just a half, ok?" Nick said.

"Promise me if I go to sleep, you'll sleep, too?" she asked.

"I promise. One-hundred percent," he replied, "I'll sleep right here on the floor."

"You don't have to, Nick. You can sleep with me. It's not like . . . you know," Judy said, smiling at him a little. He smiled back and said, "I'll sleep on the floor, Fluff. Bed's too small for the both of us, anyway."

After taking half the pill, Judy lay down and looked at Nick for a long time. Unexpected warmth washed over her; a feeling of safety and security settled into her: it felt like one of her mother's hugs. Relaxation settled into her bones, easing the anxiety that was eating away at her. She'd never felt so at peace. Everything was ok now. Everything was in its right place – almost.

"Come on, eyes closed now," Nick lightly chided her.

She closed her eyes for a few seconds, and then opened them again. Nick waited. Again, she closed her eyes and opened them after a few more seconds. All Nick wanted now was for her to go to sleep so he could, too. She looked at him and sighed, then sat up.

"Carrots, you've got to sleep. You're exhausted," he said and realized he could have just as easily been talking about himself.

"Nick?" she said quietly.

Nick hmmmm'd?

"Nick, you're going to apologize to Chief Bogo," Judy said in a relaxed voice. She felt so at peace, like being on clouds.

Nick was momentarily shocked at the suggestion, amplified by his own weariness. "After he yelled at ME?" Nick said, trying to mask the indignation he was feeling.

"You went too far, Nick, talking to him like that," she said gently. "He's your boss, you should speak to him with respect."

"Et tu, Brute?" Nick shot back snidely, "I was trying to defend YOU." He voice was arch, something that just got away from him from his tiredness.

"I'm sorry, Nick - I know you were, "Judy said softly, "but the things you say about him behind his back . . . I know you're just joking, but it's disrespectful. You're still that hurt little boy in a way, still trying to prove the bullies didn't get to you that night. But they did, Nick, and ever since then, you've carried that pain, afraid to let it go in case another, even worse, pain replaces it. And you love me so much that if something hurts me, it hurts you twice as much, so you either lash out or hide behind your smugness and jokes. Bogo wasn't trying to hurt me tonight, he's just gruff and he does things the old way. Apologize to him, Nick; don't do it for me, do it for yourself."

Judy looked at him kindly and smiled a little. The seething rage that'd been building in him all night evaporated even as Judy's words stung his heart. He sighed hard.

"Ok, I'll make you a deal: you get some sleep and I'll apologize. Fair?"

She laid her head on her pillow and muttered "Fair," under a yawn. Her eyes closed and a peaceful sleep overcame her.

Nick leaned against the bed and closed his eyes, but sleep eluded him as he ruminated about what Judy had said. He wanted a distraction, so he turned the volume on the TV almost all the way down, and then turned it on.

ZNN flickered on. Christiana Amanpurr, the Snow Leopard anchorwoman, was just starting the news.

"Tensions run high at the horrific crash downtown that claimed the lives of a family of five cheetahs," she said. The image on the screen was him arguing with Bogo. He noticed that his tail was between his legs. He hadn't done that in . . . better not to think about it. "Video showing Police Chief Bogo dressing down one of his officers was captured by our own ZNN cameras. There has been no comment from either Chief Bogo or the officer involved, who is believed to be Officer Nicholas Wilde, partner to hero cop Judy Hopps. According to sources close the department, Officer Hopps was injured trying to rescue -"

Nick turned off the TV and looked over at the sleeping rabbit.

"Deal's a deal," he said wanly as he got up off the floor and walked into the bathroom to shower.

* * *

A few hours later, Nick arrived at the station. As he walked to Bogo's office, conversations stopped around him. Clawhauser looked up from his terminal and said, "Chief's waiting for you, Nick," sympathetically.

"Good ol' Clawhauser; he was always a friend, no matter what," Nick thought to himself.

Arriving at Bogo's door, Nick hesitated.

"I promised," he told himself, then knocked.

"Come in," Bogo called.

Screwing up his courage, Nick opened the door.

Chief Bogo looked up and scowled at the fox.

"You look like Hell, Wilde. Did you sleep in your uniform?"

"I haven't slept, Sir . . ."

"Oh, so it's -Sir- now. What do you want?"

He stepped into the office and closed the door.

"I came to apologize," Nick said, looking at the floor.

"This should be good. Hopps put you up to it?" Bogo asked archly.

"She opened my eyes, Sir. I know I've been out of line . . ."

"How gracious of you, Officer Wilde," Bogo said sarcastically, then shook his head and sighed.

"Sir?" Nick asked.

"Sit. Down. Look at me." Bogo snarled.

Nick sat down instantly on the hard, wooden chair facing Bogo's desk and looked into his boss' eyes.

"You wear contrition like a bad suit, Wilde," Bogo growled, "but you're being honest, and that deserves respect. What happened last night is unacceptable. Officer Hopps is tough, she can take it. All she needed to do was snap out of it and keep fighting . . ." He stopped himself suddenly, then corrected, "keep working."

"Chief, she was in shock. Yelling at her wasn't going to make things better," Nick started to explain before he got a face full of Cape Buffalo.

"You and Hopps treat this like a game of Cops and Robbers. It's not," Bogo snapped, "Hopps got a good look at what being a cop is -really- about last night. You asked me why no one came forward? It's because they have to know she can take it. They have to know she won't crumble when things get bad. It's not clear she's passed that test, but seeing her trembling in your arms didn't help her case."

Nick couldn't believe what he was hearing. "So it's sink or swim?

"I'm not worried about Officer Hopps: she's tough and she can take it," Bogo reiterated. "Don't sell her short, Wilde. You trying to protect her is denying her the honor and dignity of getting up by herself and dusting herself off. If there's any officer in this force that can rise to the challenge, it's her. She's proven what she's made of to me, but she hasn't proven that to herself yet and you're taking that chance from her. I know you think I'm being an unfeeling hard-ass, but this won't be the first trial that Hopps will face. Are you going to protect her from all of them? Or are you going to pick-and-choose which ones you feel that she can face? Are you going to be her partner or her parents?"

The fox thought about that for a long while, his sense of self-righteousness fading. Bogo looked at his officer with a paternal stare.

"I hadn't thought of that," Nick finally said, sounding unsure.

"That's the difference between you and me, Wilde: experience. I've been there and you haven't. You're still a rookie and you still have a lot to learn. So does Hopps. You both learned something last night," Bogo said, then continued, "The hospital sent over the paperwork for Hopps. She's going to drive a desk for the next week. You'll ride with Fangmire for the time being. A little time apart will be good for both of you, especially you, Wilde. You're a good cop, and when it comes time to prove it, you'll understand what I've said."

Nick nodded, not totally convinced Bogo's methods were what was best for Judy right now, but he also understood he himself could be doing the rabbit more harm than good.

"One more thing," Bogo said, "the Mayor emailed me this morning. She's asked that Officer Hopps attend the Sprinter family's funeral. I will be there, you will not. I'm sorry, Wilde, but she has to do this for herself."

"I understand, Sir," Nick replied. "I'll let her know."

"Take care of her, but don't stand in her way. Be at roll-call on Monday. You're dismissed."

* * *

Nick dragged himself into Judy's apartment, head held low and ears flat against his scalp. His tail dragged and he almost closed the door on it. He expected to see Judy in bed, but instead she was sitting on her chair, knees drawn up to her chest with her chin resting on them. She was rocking slightly. Next to her, on the table, the orange bottle of pills was lying on its side and several of the tablets were scattered about. She looked up at the Nick and weakly said, "Hi."

Looking at the tablets, Nick swallowed hard. "Carrots, how many of those did you take?" he asked worriedly.

"Two. They wear off so fast and I can't sleep, Nick. I close my eyes and I'm back at the accident. I fall asleep and I hear the screaming," she said looking up at the fox, her violet eyes thoroughly bloodshot.

"TWO?" he asked incredulously. "You're supposed to take HALF of one! What happened to 'no drugs'?!"

"They make it go away, Nick. I just want it go away. I just want to sleep . . ." she said wearily.

"We're going to go in the bathroom and have a generally unpleasant experience, but you are going to get those pills out of your system!" he said.

"I beat you to that already. I guess I wasn't supposed to take them on an empty stomach . . ."

Nick groaned and Judy shrugged weakly.

"I apologized to the Chief," he said.

"How did it go?" she asked.

"New topic: he asked that you be at the funeral for the family."

Judy's tired eyes opened wide and her jaw dropped a little.

"Nick, I don't know . . . I don't know if I'm ready yet; you'll be there, right?" she asked anxiously. Worry shot through the narcotic fog clouding her mind. The feeling of warmth and safety wavered and thinned.

Nick shook his head, "Bogo said you've got to do this for yourself." He let that sink in for a moment. "Look, we're both beyond exhausted. We both need to sleep. I'm going to curl up on the rug, you climb into bed. You've probably got enough of that stuff in your system to let you sleep. I'll be right here. If you have another nightmare, I'll wake you up. Promise. Cross my heart."

Judy climbed into bed and pulled the covers over herself. Nick smiled.

"You sleep now," he said.

She closed her eyes, "Mmmm-hmmm." He waited a couple of minutes, watching her, until he was sure she was out, and then lay down on the floor.

"Sleep well, Fluff," he muttered before falling into sleep himself.

* * *

When he awoke, sunlight was streaming into the apartment and Judy was sitting on the chair wearing her dress uniform and watching him.

"Oh, no - Carrots, tell me you slept?" he said, feeling worry to the pit of his stomach.

"A little," she said, "I keep . . . you know."

"Why didn't you wake me up?" he asked, sitting up.

"You needed the sleep," she said simply.

He looked on the table and didn't see the pill bottle.

"Fluff, where're the pills?" he asked.

"I just took one," she said.

"Give me the pills, please . . ."

Judy looked at him and her shoulders drooped. Without saying anything else, she pulled the bottle from her pants pocket and handed it to him.

"You're a very bad bunny," Nick said as he looked at the bottle. Shaking his head, he walked into the bathroom and upended the bottle into the toilet. He looked over at the rabbit and flushed. "There, that problem's solved."

"Chief Bogo is coming to pick me up in a few minutes," she said, exhaustion hovering around the edges of her words.

He looked at her. "Are you ready for this?"

She nodded.

"You sure?" he asked.

"Maybe?" she said, giving an uncertain shrug of her shoulders.

Nick sighed and knew there was nothing he could do for her, but he hugged her anyway. "Know I'll be thinking of you," he said, and then smiled at her.

She smiled back weakly, "Thank you, Nick," she said gratefully and then hugged him back.

* * *

Chief Bogo's car led the procession of five hearses from the funeral home to the cemetery. Hopps sat in the front seat while Fangmire, clad in his own dress uniform, sat in the back. Having only ever seen him in his ZPD t-shirt, she was impressed by how well the wolf cleaned up.

"Oh, Hell," Bogo muttered as they arrived. A swarm of media awaited them as he slowed the car to a stop. Instantly, they were surrounded by cameras and reporters.

"No one but me says anything," he said, "Hopps and I walk abreast, Fangmire, you follow behind. No swearing, no glaring, no shoving. Ready?"

Bogo opened the door and the questions began:

"Chief Bogo, what can you tell us about the confrontation between you and officer Wilde?"

"Is this normal procedure for the ZPD?"

"What do you have to say about the mayor's call for an inquest?"

"Chief, have you spoken to Officer Wilde since the incident?"

Bogo raised his right hand and said, "The ZPD will be issuing a statement shortly about the incident between me and Officer Wilde. But today, we're here to remember the Sprinter family. I ask that members of the media show restraint and respect in their time of mourning."

"Officer Hopps . . ." the reporter for ZNN called out. She turned to look.

"Do you think you could have done more to save the Sprinter family?"

Bogo saw the look of shock cross Hopp's face and quickly said, "No more questions."

Putting his hand on her back, he shepherded her forward. Fangmire followed dutifully behind. More questions were shouted, but the trio ignored them.

"Sorry, Hopps," Bogo said to his officer, "it's something you'll have to deal with until this blows over."

"Yes, Sir," she said, trying to sound as resolute as she could, but not feeling it.

The extended family was ahead. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the hearses being unloaded. Five white coffins. Two adult sized and three smaller ones. She was surprised when a contingency of animals in Marine dress uniforms stepped forward and bore the caskets towards the five graves. She looked at Bogo, who said, "Father was active duty. Six years UZMC."

Her knees started to shake. "Hold it together, Judy," she told herself. The effect of the pill was already wearing off and she found herself craving the sanctuary of numbness and peace of another.

The family stepped forward, clad in black, led by an old female cheetah in a black mourning dress.

"Ok, you can do this . . ." Judy thought to herself.

"Officer Hopps?" the matriarch asked.

"Yes Ma'am," Judy replied solemnly.

The old cheetah knelt down in front of Judy then spat in her face.

"Why didn't you save them?! Why didn't you save my babies?!" she shrieked.

Judy didn't recoil. She stood firmly in place; shocked but resolute.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Judy said, feeling like she was watching this happen from some distance away. Nothing seemed real. The other members of the family were pulling the old cheetah back and apologizing. Reality began to shift on Judy: she was here; she was at the accident; she was with Nick back in her apartment; she was in Bunnyborough; they were screaming, clawing to get out . . .

"Hopps," Bogo said sternly, "Hopps, look at me."

Judy looked up at her boss as he towered over her.

"You're ok," he said. It wasn't a question and the assuredness in his voice brought her back around to the present.

She nodded. "Absolutely, Sir," she replied.

He nodded back.

"Good."

* * *

The rest of the funeral went as well as could be expected under the circumstances. At the end, an older gentleman cheetah came over, knelt down and looked Judy in the eyes.

"I'm sorry, Officer Hopps. They were everything to her. She's been pretty much in shock since it happened. We know you did everything you could. Please accept our apologies," he said.

"I know how that feels," she confided, "Everyone at the ZPD feels your loss. There's no need to apologize."

Bogo looked at her approvingly. The look was rare enough that she smiled and realized it was the first time she had smiled in days.

* * *

After fording the river of media, Bogo, Hopps and Fangmire ensconced themselves safely back in the Chief's patrol cruiser.

"You did good today, Hopps. I know it was hard, but you hung in there. You concerned me there for a moment. What happened?" Bogo asked.

"Just a little dizzy from the heat, Sir," she replied. She hated lying to him, but knew that any other answer would have been met with unspoken disapproval.

He hmmmph'd; whether he believed her or not was unclear.

"It was a bit warm today," Fangmire said, giving Judy a clandestine smile behind Bogo's back.

"That's why I keep telling everyone to stay hydrated," he said. "Let's get you home, Officer Hopps."

"I'd like to return to work Monday, Sir," Hopps said. "It's time for me to get back."

"Paperwork says at least a week. And with your paws out of commission, you're not much good to me on patrol. I'll put you on the front desk with Clawhauser until you're healed up. Also, I need your deposition."

"Yes, Sir," Judy replied. Relief crept into her soul, but she found herself still craving the one pill she'd saved.

* * *

The trio arrived at Judy's apartment building right around sunset.

"Fangmire, get the door, please," Bogo commanded the wolf officer.

Fangmire stepped out of the car and walked up the stairs to the front door. Judy went to follow him, but Bogo put his hand on her shoulder.

"You passed, Officer Hopps. I wasn't sure you would. What you saw would have broken a lot of rookies. You've held it together and even got Fangmire to pull a CYA on your rotten lie about the heat," he said.

The insides of her ears turned pink.

"Thank you, Sir. It means a lot coming from you," she said appreciatively.

"I know you think I was being a hard-ass for putting you on parking duty when you first started. And you're right, I was. But what if you'd seen then what you saw the other day? Would you still be here, or would you be farming carrots right now? When I told you I didn't care that you were top of your class, I wasn't lying. I don't care. Academy is what got you here. What you did today is what keeps you here. That's what I care about. I want you to be tough, but never grow hard. Don't stop being the Judy Hopps that everyone cares about," he told her.

"T-thank you, Sir . . ." she said, feeling a wave of emotion washing over her.

"One more thing, Officer Hopps . . ." he said, his tone changing.

"Yes, Sir?"

"That pill in your pocket - you're going to give it to me. Don't tell me 'what pill?' I can smell it. If there's any more of them, you're going to give those to me, too. I won't have an addicted officer on my force. Do you understand that, Officer Hopps?" he asked sternly.

"Yes, Sir. Nick - Officer Wilde - dumped the rest in the toilet," she said, fishing the pill from her pocket and handing it to him.

Bogo crushed it into powder and then flung the dust out his window.

"I . . . don't think I need them anymore, anyway. Not after today, Sir." A spike of guilt wracked her conscience.

"Good. I've lost too many good cops to those damned things and I wish the medics would stop handing them out like candy," he said. "Let's go before Fangmire gets bored holding that door open."

They both exited the car.

"About time, you two," Fangmire said.

"Shut it," Bogo snarled.

Fangmire closed the front door.

"Your MOUTH, not the door!"

Judy giggled a little. Bogo and Fangmire both looked at her. She straightened up and said, "Sorry."

Walking down the hall, Bogo noted, "What a dump."

Hopps smiled and nodded, "It's home." Everything felt so much lighter now.

Bogo hmmph'd and Judy opened her door.

"Why is Officer Wilde sleeping on the floor?" Bogo asked as he looked into the apartment.

"Because he's a dumb fox, but he's a sweetheart, too," Judy said. "Help me get him into bed?"

Bogo's eyes narrowed, but he walked in and picked up the sleeping fox.

Nick opened one eye and smiled. "You really do care, Sir," he said.

"DON'T push your luck, Wilde," Bogo huffed, laying the fox on the bed.

"You're going to bed, too, Hopps. Your eyes are bloodshot and I'm betting you haven't had a full night's sleep since the accident. Just lay here for a couple of minutes and get some rest," he said.

Dutifully, Judy climbed into bed next to Nick, and pulled his arm over herself. Bogo pulled the covers over both, and then he waited a minute as he watched her fall to sleep.

As he watched the pair sleeping, Bogo said, "Fangmire?" without turning to his officer.

"Sir?" the wolf replied.

"Unless you want to spend the next six months on parking duty, you'll wipe that STUPID smile off your muzzle, you got me?" Bogo snarled.

"Yes, Sir!" Fangmire answered with alacrity.

"Good," Bogo said, "I think our Officer Hopps is going to make it."

* * *

Judy slept dreamlessly through the night, even through Nick's snoring. When she woke up in the morning, he was curled up on the floor. She didn't wake him, but instead sat on the edge of her bed looking at him.

"Dumb fox," she said lovingly.

As she looked out her window at the spires of Zootopia, she realized she'd done it: she'd survived her bad day. She knew she had what it took to be a real cop in the city. Standing up, she crept past the sleeping fox and entered her bathroom. The pill bottle was on the edge of the sink. She looked at it, and then shook her head.

"I don't need it . . ." she told herself, then turned to look in the mirror. A changed rabbit looked back at her. Her grey fur was ruffled and her ears drooped. There was a slight dullness to her violet eyes. She turned and looked at the bottle again and read the label aloud.

"Diazepam, 100mg."

"No," came Nick's voice from behind her. She looked up at the mirror and saw him standing in the doorway.

"Nick?"

"In case you didn't hear me, I said 'Noooo – you will NOT be getting a refill. You're going to forget you ever heard that name before, Fluff.'" he said. She knew that tone well.

She tried to play it off, laughing a little, "Oh, Nick, you know I don't need those!" She smiled at the fox and instantly hated herself.

"You've never lied to me before, Judy, and I would hate for you to start now . . ." he replied.

The rabbit's ears dropped all the way down and she flinched. She then picked up the empty bottle and handed it to Nick, folding his fingers around the container so she couldn't see it. "Just make it go away," she said. She couldn't look at him.

Nick put the bottle in his pocket and then lifted Judy's chin up so she was looking into his green eyes.

"'Do you trust me?'" he repeated what he'd said to her on their first patrol together, "'Why yes – yes I do.' That's a two-way street, Carrots." He said nothing more, he just turned around and walked away. She heard the front door open and close.

She tried to look at herself in the mirror again, but couldn't. After all the time she spent wondering whether she was a real cop, she now found herself facing the question of whether she was a real friend.

* * *

Author's note: "Wait, what? What happened here?" you might be asking if you've been following this story. The short answer is I listened to some critiques and changed some things. Bogo's treatment of Nick didn't sit well with a number of people and was distracting from the main story. Because of that, I changed the scene were he slams Wilde into the ambulance and where he dresses the fox down in his office. I believe removing both takes away the distraction and helps in the flow of the story. I also expanded, slightly, on Judy's growing addiction to the pills. Apart from that, the main story remains unchanged.


	2. Svengali

Chapter 2

"Svengali"

"SHUT IT!" Bogo hollered at his rambunctious officers, who all sat down and quieted in near unison.

Thus began Monday morning's rollcall.

"As you know, Officer Wilde and I had a frank and animated discussion last week. You may have seen the video," Bogo began snidely.

"1.8 million hits on Ewetube!" Snarlov called out from the back.

Bogo glared at the polar bear and then continued.

"For my sins, our new mayor has decided I need to attend . . . sensitivity training," Bogo said, sneering the last two words.

There was a second of silence before uproarious laughter filled the room. Fists pounded on the desks while Bogo snarled angrily. "Enough!"

Stiffened silence returned, even if a few officers were biting their tongues.

"Zylina Sokoloff will be taking my place starting tomorrow," Bogo said, "She's Tundratown's assistant chief and you animals –will- behave for her."

The chief paused and put his glasses on.

"But in the meantime, we have some new assignments," Bogo began, "Fangmire, Wilde will ride with you for the time being."

"What did I ever do to you, Chief?" the wolf called out sarcastically.

Ignoring Fangmire, the buffalo continued.

"Hopps will be manning the front desk with Clawhauser until she's off medical."

"By the time that cheetah gets done feeding her donuts, we'll have a 200-pound rabbit on our paws!" Wolford joked.

"Wilde won't like that!" someone else in the back added.

"Just roll her in flour and aim for the wet spot, Wilde!" McHorn spouted.

The officers in the room howled with crass laughter, all except for Nick. While his mantra may have been "never let them see that they got to you", but jokes about Judy always did – crude ones especially so. He choked back a growl, but his hackles rose on their own accord and the insides of his ears turned a hot red before they flattened against his head.

Bogo saw Nick's reaction and thumped his fist on the lectern. "Enough!"

The ruckus abated, and Nick looked thankfully at his boss.

"Alright," Bogo finally said, "Enough. Don't look so cross, Wilde, we joke because we love you."

"Who's this 'we', Sir?" Fangmire said, igniting another round of chuckles.

"And on that note," Bogo said, "dismissed!"

Officers filed out of the room, but Nick stayed seated until the room was empty. As Bogo turned to leave, the fox said, "Thank you, Chief."

"She probably would have laughed herself, Wilde, and would have expected you to, too – even if it was uncomfortable." Bogo replied and then walked out of the room, leaving Nick alone for a moment before Fangmire returned.

"Come on, stupid, time for a ride," the wolf said and not in a joking way.

The two walked down to the motor pool.

"Hey, look, I'm sorry about that howl thing . . ." Nick began, sounding earnest.

"Oh, that?" the wolf said, then laughed, "Say, you still got that app?"

Nick handed over his cellphone with a smile. "Sure, you can go ahead and delete it."

Fangmire flipped over the cellphone in his hand, then slammed it face-first into the wall.

"Oops," he said, smirking, before handing the phone back to Nick.

The fox looked down at the shattered screen, shards still held in place by the frame, then back at Fangmire. Remarkably, the phone still worked when Nick tapped the contacts button, even if the screen looked like someone took a baseball bat to a car's windshield.

"Get in the cruiser, stupid. We've got stops to make," the wolf said.

* * *

Judy had no illusions that her day would be good. She'd put off her deposition for most of the afternoon, but the time had finally arrived to suffer through it. Francine volunteered kindly for the duty and led the rabbit downstairs.

"Is Interrogation Three open?" Francine asked officer Tibbs as she and Judy arrived in the lockup wing.

"Three's open. They just got done in there. You want the shades down?" the leopard officer asked.

"Always. Thanks, Frank, you're a hon!"

Frank laughed, "Anything for you, sweetheart."

"Interrogation Three?" Judy asked nervously. "Am I in trouble?"

I-3 had a reputation for being the place where bad things happened to bad animals. She'd never seen anyone smile going in, but she'd seen a lot of animals – big animals – cry coming out. Even the room's nick-name, "The Black Mariah", recalled the harsher, meaner days of the old ZPD. "Not a good place for bunnies," Wolford had told the one time she asked about the room and she'd avoided going in it ever since.

Francine said, "Oh, no. The room is soundproof. It's the room I prefer for depositions. You'll understand."

The elephant opened the door for Judy and the pair walked into the stark room. A heavy coat of institutional grey paint covered the walls, paint-roller marks still visible. Well-scuffed jade-green linoleum squares tiled the floor. In the center of the room was a large, metal table, bolted down; two stern, upright metal chairs faced off against each other on opposite sides. A pink box of Kleenex sat in the middle of the table, looking completely out of place. Cold, blueish light bathed the room, the product of fluorescent tubes inset in the ceiling.

Judy caught the scent of three different odors, two faint and one overpowering: urine, blood and pine-scented industrial cleaning fluid.

Now that she was actually in I-3 she liked it even less than she imagined she would.

Judy jumped a little when the door closed heavily behind her.

"Nervous?" asked Francine, pulling out a chair for Judy. It was too big for her as always and she ended up having to stand on it to see over the table. The elephant stepped over to the other side and sat down, then opened her laptop.

"Ever since the accident, I've been a little on edge," she said.

"That was a bad one, Judy. How're you sleeping?" Francine asked.

"I have nightmares," Judy answered quietly, as if speaking too loudly of her horrible dreams would invite their return.

"Listen, Hon, between you and me I get those, too. I have something that takes the edge off, 'tho . . ." Francine said in a near-whisper.

"Oh," Judy said, "I've tried Chamomile tea and it really doesn't do anything for me."

"This is a little stronger, Judy. It's called Diazapam. A lot of the officers use it for bad days and bad nights. We all have them. No shame in needing a helping hand when they happen," Francine said.

"I . . . know about those. I took a few after the accident, but Nick and Chief Bogo made me throw away the rest," Judy replied hesitantly.

"When's Nick ever had a bad day? And Bogo's driving a desk. He doesn't do fieldwork anymore. They don't see the things we do. Listen, if you want, I can get you some, just enough to get you through this. They come in a scent-proof bottle so buffalo and foxes don't need to know. I'll even give you a discount," Francine said.

"A discount?" Judy asked in surprise.

"They're not free, Hon. Normally, they're 200 bucks for 20. Since we're friends, I'll do it for 100."

Judy was shocked by the offer and with the audacity with which it was made, but she made no outward sign of her alarm.

"I'll think about it," she said, trying to hide her feelings, "We should really get to the deposition."

"All right, Officer Hopps: raise your right hand. Is everything you're about to tell me the whole truth as best you can remember it?"

Judy swore her oath. Then the deposition began.

Two hours of questioning did not pass fast.

Within five minutes, Judy was drawing her first Kleenex and by the time a half-hour had passed, she'd collected a mound of tear-soaked tissues. Not that she knew how long she'd been there. Without a clock and under Francine's probing questions, minutes hung like hours. She recalled the details of the accident over and over as Francine drilled her for details. The elephant's trunk flew across the keyboard as Judy walked through every painful moment. Each time she thought she was done, Francine would have her go over it again.

"A family is dead, Judy, there can't be any doubts that you did everything you could. This is for your own protection. Go through it again, step by step, everything you heard and saw," Francine said.

There were long minutes between wracking sobs, sobs that would not abate even with Francine's gentle reassurances that everything was ok. Judy would tell herself that she was a police officer and then stiffen, only to be struck by another question that would leave her shaking. By the time they were done, she was a trembling, crying ball of grey fur. She wanted someone to hold her. She wanted out of that room with its cold blue light and green floor and faded piss reek.

Francine sat back and waited for Judy stop crying. When the tears faded to sniffles, the elephant reached into her purse and handed Judy a single pill along with her water bottle.

"Here, Hon," she said softly, "Just one to take the edge off; help you sleep tonight."

Judy hesitated, looking at the pill. She remembered Bogo and Nick's disdain, but also the peaceful numbness that erased her anxiety and terror. For a moment, the two memories were in balance. When she looked up, Francine smiled at her warmly and Judy's resolve evaporated. She swallowed the pill with a sip of water.

"Everything will be better now, just relax and breathe nice and deep," Francine said.

Judy closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She still felt the same at first, but after a couple of minutes her whole body began to feel warm and relaxed. "I think it's working," she said.

A knock at the door startled Judy out of her reverie she opened her eyes again. Francine opened the door and there stood Clawhauser holding a green folder. "Here's the toxicology report on the Sprinters you wanted," he said and handed it to Francine. Peeking in, he saw Judy's teary eyes. "Oh, sorry," he apologized and then closed the door.

"I should look at that," Judy said, feeling the edge dissipate and the memories of the deposition being pushed back into the clouds. She breathed in deeply and then exhaled a relaxed sigh. Tension melted away.

"You've been through enough for one day, Judy. I'll go over it and if there's anything interesting, I'll put it in the report. I'll see you downstairs in a little bit." Francine said, opening the door for the rabbit.

As she was about to step out of the room, Judy stopped and turned to Francine.

"I don't have a hundred on me right now – I've only got 75. Can I owe you the rest?" Judy asked weakly.

The elephant smiled and rubbed her trunk between Judy's ears. "Of course, Hon. Meet me in the motor pool after shift.

* * *

"We're even, Fangmire," Nick said as he looked at his phone.

"We'll never be 'even', Wilde, and let me explain why: I hate foxes and of all the foxes I hate, I hate you most of all," Fangmire said as he pulled up to a stop sign.

"That's a lot of pent-up aggression over a stupid howling app," Nick said with a bit of a smirk.

Fangmire looked right, and then looked left. When he saw no one was coming, he cocked his arm back and threw a punch that caught Nick right on his muzzle and slammed his head into the window!

Nick yelped and grabbed his muzzle before he turned to the wolf who'd now bared his teeth.

"Twenty-two hundred bucks – every cent she'd saved. And she lost it all on your little Rainforest Water scam. I watched my mother cry for days because she'd been rooked by a piece of garbage fox named Nicholas P. Wilde," Fangmire snarled, "and that's before she had to tell my father what'd happened to the family savings."

There was a moment of silence between the two as Fangmire pulled away from the stop sign.

Nick's sore jaw dropped and he almost tried to defend himself by saying, "The bottles did say 'from municipal sources'," but common sense won out.

"So there's no 'even' with you, Wilde. I hate you with a passion," the wolf said, "You were scum in a stupid shirt then and you're scum in a uniform now. But now your tail is mine. You're going to hate every second we're together. Even if you quit the force, I'll be there like your shadow."

Fangmire turned a corner and started scanning for something while Nick tried to shake off the effects of the wolf's punch.

"Oh," the wolf continued, "one more thing: I like Hopps, but if you decide to involve her in this, I'll personally see to it that some night, something very bad happens to her involving some perps I know. Something you don't want to think about . . ."

Fangmire paused there for a moment and then said, "Or maybe you do want to think about, like tonight when you're all alone. Is that going to get you all hot and bothered, Nick? Is that what you're going to picture next time you see her?"

Nick's eyes opened wide and his ears went flat for the second time that day. This time, his teeth were bared and he snarled at the wolf.

"Your mom was an easy mark; wolves always are," Nick couldn't hide the anger in his voice.

Fangmire laughed at him. "Hiss-hiss, little foxy. Ah, here we are."

As the cruiser pulled up, Nick recognized Finnick's van.

"Get out of the car, stupid. Time to make you unhappy," Fangmire said.

Nick got out and stayed on his side while Fangmire rapped on the back door of the van. The door opened and Finnick looked out. The little fennec saw Nick and said, "Nick! Look at you all in that blue suit! Who's your friend?"

"I'm not his friend, I'm his partner and you're illegally parked," Fangmire said, smiling coldly.

"The hell I am!" Finnick shot back, "I've been here less than a day and the limit is 48 hours."

The wolf looked up at Nick and said, "Officer Wilde, did you not tell me you saw this van parked here the day before yesterday?"

"I most certainly didn't," Nick said back. He didn't like where this was going.

Fangmire nodded, "See: he said yes. How much does towing and impound cost these days? About 500? Add the fines and we're probably looking at almost 800 bucks. Would you say that's about right, Officer Wilde?"

"Leave him alone. He didn't do anything. Aren't there puppies you should be kicking or something?" Nick said sarcastically.

"Now see," Fangmire said, "if ol' Nick here had just played ball, I'd have let you off for 200 bucks. But because Nick's got a stick up his tail – and he's a stupid fox just like you – this is going to cost you 500. It's called a shakedown, sweetheart."

Finnick looked at Nick in disbelief. "You're just going to let him do this?" the little fox asked his friend.

"Knock it off, Fangmire," Nick growled, "we're not shaking anyone down. Get back in the car. Finnick, just forget this happened."

"It's too bad Officer Wilde wasn't watching when Finnick here took a swing at me and I was forced to defend myself," Fangmire said, pulling out his nightstick and cocking his arm back. "Think I won't, Wilde? Who do you think Internal Affairs is going to believe after you tattle to Bogo: decorated veteran or former crook? Two scam-artists watching out for one another; foxes at that. Now tell your little friend to cough up the 500 unless he'd enjoy a beating. I'm just going to find the money when I search the van afterward and this way, he keeps his ride and his un-cracked skull. That's a fair deal if I've ever heard one."

Nick looked at the white wolf and felt the ache in his sore jaw. Fangmire looked back at Nick and grinned, showing all his teeth.

"Finnick, just give him the money. I'll make it up to you somehow," Nick said with deadly seriousness.

The fennec just stared at Nick in disbelief.

"Did you hear that, Finnick?" Fangmire asked, lowering the baton, "It was Officer Nicholas P. Wilde who told you to give us the money, not me. Even wearing that badge, he's still nothing but a cheap con-artist. Just like you."

Finnick pulled out his wallet and handed the wolf a sheaf of bills.

"You're dead to me, Nick," Finnick said angrily, then spit on the ground.

"What a joyful reunion, indeed," Fangmire said, counting the bills, "I'm sure you two will be seeing each other again real soon. Like in two weeks when Wilde comes around to collect another 500 from you for spitting at an officer and anything else I think up between now and then." Satisfied with the count, he stuffed half the money in his pocket and held the other half out to Nick, then jerked it away. "You'd just give it back to him anyway."

As he turned back to the car, the wolf said, "Oh – almost forgot!" then he pulled his nightstick out again and smashed the left brake light on the van. "Brake light's out; get that fixed or it's a 200 buck fine." Both Finnick and Nick looked on in shock.

Grinning at Nick, he said, "Sure, it's a cliché, but it's a fun one. Now get in the car, stupid."

"This day can't get any worse," Nick thought.

He was wrong.

* * *

Finally free from the Black Mariah, Judy pulled out her cellphone and pushed the button for Nick. After a couple of rings, the fox answered.

"Hey, Carrots!" he said cheerfully, "ready for our date tonight? I got reservations at Mon Ami, that little bistro you like so much!"

Judy steeled herself and said, "I – I had my deposition today, Nick. I don't feel like going out tonight,"

"No problem," he replied, "I'll grab a couple of Bug Burgers and some fresh produce; I'll make you a salad and we can watch some movies together. It'll be fun."

Judy cringed inside. "Um, I think I just want to be by myself tonight," she said. "I'll make it up to you another time."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

"Ok, Fluff," Nick said and she could hear the hurt in his voice, "another time. I'll talk to you at work tomorrow."

Judy hung up and felt like a thousand showers would never make her clean again.

* * *

Nick frowned as he looked at the shattered screen on his phone, the jagged shards turning the wallpaper of Judy into some kind of demonic jigsaw puzzle. She had never stood him up before. The one thing he'd looked forward to all day was gone and it left a big, empty space in him. His jaw ached, his stomach churned and his emotions roiled. With a heavy, defeated sigh and nothing further to look forward to, he decided to give up for the day and go home. Walking out into the lobby, he saw Clawhauser fiddling with his phone.

"Clawhauser," Nick thought, "Always a friend, no matter what . . ."

He walked up to the spotted cat who was browsing the latest Gazelle news on his phone.

"Hi, Nick," the plump cheetah addressed the fox warmly, then asked, "What happened to your muzzle? It's bleeding and your eye is swollen."

Nick put his hand up to his face and flinched when he touched the wet spot Clawhauser was looking at. Looking at his black-furred fingers, he was able to smell blood on them.

"Tripped on the stairs," he said, "took a real nose-dive. I'll be ok. Look, Ben, I need help: who's the cleanest cop on the force?"

Clawhauser looked at the Nick for a moment and then replied, "McHorn. Nick, what's wrong?"

Nick shook his head, "Some bad things. You've always been my friend, so the best thing I can do for you is keeping you out of it."

"Are you going to be ok?" Benjamin asked.

Nick thought for a moment, and then said, "I honestly don't know. Could you keep an eye on Judy for me? If anything seems amiss, let me know ASAP. If you could do that for me, you'd be helping me out a lot."

"Judy, too?" the cat asked.

"It's bad, Ben. Keep your eye on her and your head down. Where does McHorn hang out after work?"

"The Four Winds Bar, down in . . ."

"I know the place," Nick said. "Thanks for everything."

* * *

Nick knew the Four Winds well: he'd spent years avoiding the place – it was a cop hangout. Not one of the new places the younger guys on the force liked to frequent with Trivia Nights and Karaoke; the Four Winds was for the older and wiser set who went there to drink in silence and think about retirement without being pestered by MC's and turn-tables. It was the kind of place a scam artist stayed away from and a rookie knew he was unwelcome. Both of those reasons were going to have to go out the window. He approached the door tentatively, unsure of what to expect inside. Two jaguars from the 3rd precinct brushed passed him and entered: Nick followed them in.

The place was simple enough: a long bar and a smattering of round tables and wooden upright chairs. He'd expected it to be packed, but a quick overview showed less than 10 animals – all cops – occupying various tables. He spotted McHorn at one of them and walked over. No one seemed to take notice of Nick.

"This seat taken?" Nick asked the rhino, who looked up from his Boilermaker.

No look of surprise, just a snorting nod. "All yours, Wilde."

Nick slid into the seat and McHorn raised his finger. The bartender nodded back.

"Let me guess," the rhino said, "that bleeding muzzle and swollen eye have something to do with your company?"

"Can't I just come by and have a drink with a fellow cop?" Nick asked.

"If the last thing you drank wasn't a wine cooler, I'll give you my pension," McHorn said with another snort.

"Chablis, actually," the fox said with a light laugh. He could see the charm offensive was getting him nowhere.

The bartender walked up with a beer and a shot of something cheap and brown, putting both down in front of Nick.

"If you're going to be in a cop bar, you might as well drink like a cop," McHorn said.

Nick looked at each drink, unsure of what to do, while the rhino just shook his head.

"You drink the beer after the bourbon," McHorn said as if he was explaining Fermat's Last Theorem to a dense teenage boy.

Nick screwed up his courage and took a sip of bourbon. Instantly, he felt like his mouth caught fire and it was everything he could do not to spit it out, but to drink off his beer instead. A quick gulp of both and his throat burned down to his stomach.

"That's terrible . . ." he coughed.

That at least got a smile out of McHorn. "At least I don't have to worry about you stealing my drink when I go to take a piss. So talk to me, Wilde. Someone obviously slugged you and I don't think it was a perp."

"Clawhauser says you're the cleanest cop in the department . . ." Nick started before McHorn held up his hand to stop him.

"Let me guess, that damned Fangmire sent you to see if I'll play ball. No chance. So you can get your fluffy little ass on out of here and tell him –"

Nick held up his paw this time and said, "Fangmire's the one who punched me. You know he's dirty? Why aren't you doing something about it?"

McHorn looked at the fox across the table from him.

"I'm 52 and the fourth generation of cop in my family," the rhino said, "My old man made it to 50 before the stress and booze took him. My grandfather was 42 when some skunk with a zip gun shot him in the eye during a drug store hold-up. My great-grandfather died in the dirt back when Sahara Square was all whore-houses and saloons. I got three years left and I'll do what none of them did: make it out of this job alive. And when I do, I'm going to watch baseball, drink beer, and beat the living hell out of the first one of my grandkids that even thinks of putting on a badge. Bogo knows this, that's why he gives me an easy beat in the high-rent district. He even lets me in on a little action once in awhile. I'm not risking all that because a wolf wants to shake down some scum."

Nick looked at him in disbelief.

"Yeah, I know all about Fangmire's little side business. I'm guessing by this conversation, so do you now. Maybe you even had to lend a paw today? You thought you'd stay new-car fresh forever? But that doesn't make you a dirty cop. We all got dirt on us. Don't play his game. Whatever he's got on you, get out from under it. Step away as quick as you can. And watch your partner – Fangmire knows how you feel about her, and if he can't get to you one way, he'll try to get to you through her," McHorn said.

"Who can I trust?" Nick asked, looking around the room for any hint of a familiar face that might over-hear.

"Delgato, Wolford and Snarlov are good cops and as clean as you're going to get in the 1st. One more thing, Wilde: Fangmire has been like a Svengali to Bogo since the Antelope Tower fire. Five of our guys went into that inferno and Fangmire was the only one to make it out alive. Ever since then, Fangmire walks on water with Bogo. Fangmire has his ear and his trust. That's why no one goes after him. No one's going to stick their neck out for some penny-ante con artists getting their comeuppance. So walk careful, Wilde, and for god's sake, think before you act."

The rhino reached across the table and scooped Nick's beer and shot across to his side. "You weren't going to drink it, anyway," McHorn said.

* * *

That night, as he slept, Nick dreamt of Judy, but it wasn't a pleasant dream. The visions playing through his mind dragged him to places he never wanted to visit and showed him things he never wanted to see. When they finally released him, he woke with a start and looked around in the near-dark of his shabby apartment. The horrors of the nightmare were nowhere to be seen. With his heart pounding and fear coursing through his blood, he cursed Fangmire. He thought about calling Judy, but the red digits of his clock showed 3:00am.

"Midnight of the soul," he said to himself, then lay back down, staring into the darkness for a long while before his eyes finally closed again and fitful sleep overcame him.

* * *

Judy finally made it home after missing her stop on the bus. She could barely focus on the short three-block walk home, but at the same time, she was acutely aware of the bottle of pills in her purse. Closing her door, she pulled the bottle out and opened it.

"Just one per night," she told herself, "Just for sleep . . ."

For just a second, she thought about Nick.

"I'll make it up to him," she told herself, "I'll do something nice for him tomorrow."

The lie came easy enough that she didn't even realize it was a lie. Whatever self-loathing she had for who she was becoming was lost in a soft, narcotic haze. As her day ended, she didn't even bother to take off her clothes, or set her alarm, before she slumped on her bed and fell into a heavy, drugged sleep.

* * *

"Well look who's here!" Fangmire cried out across the bar as Francine walked in. She waved and joined his table.

"How's it hangin', wolf?" the elephant asked.

"Just had one of the best days of my life," he replied. "I think I made Wilde cry. And I got to sock him in the face!"

Francine looked delightedly surprised and then the two laughed.

"Well that's nothing," Francine said, "wait until I tell you about my day!"

The pair gossiped maliciously, sharing the delicious details of their shifts.

"You got a hundred bucks out of her? Those things are a buck each!" Fangmire said gleefully.

"Aww, but I'm doing her such a favor giving her a discount!" Francine laughed. "She's a total train wreck. The only thing is I'm running low on supplies. I'm going to need another truck soon. Got anyone who can handle it?"

Francine's question gave Fangmire an idea.

"Could you do me the smallest favor, dear?" the wolf asked. "I just need a few photos and I think I can convince my new, bestest fox friend to do it for us."

Fangmire had not yet learned that a cornered fox is still a fox.

But he would.

* * *

Author's note: "What the hey?" you may be asking. Or not. But if you are, the changes I made were to satisfy some critics who felt I was going too dark and that the entire 1st seemed corrupted. I wanted to show that there's no 100% clean cops, but not every cop in the 1st is corrupt. I also wanted to establish the relationship between Fangmire (Fangmeyer) and Chief Bogo. This will be explained in more depth in a future chapter. Yes, there's more to come! Love it or hate it, I'm gonna keep on writing it!


	3. Water Under the Bridge

Nick awoke from an uneasy sleep with his right eye swollen shut and blood caking the right side of his aching muzzle.

"Damn Fangmire," he muttered angrily.

Memories from the day before festered as Nick dragged his tired body into the shower. As soon as the water hit his face, his muzzle began the throb and bleed. With a pained groan, Nick resigned himself to a doctor's visit and a missed day of work. While he showered, he imagined jamming a taser into Fangmire's crotch, but then he shook his head and grimaced as the throbbing pain became intense enough to make him clench his left eye shut.

"Not my way," he reassured himself, even if the revenge fantasy was the only thing that felt good that morning.

* * *

Three hours later, wearing a green open-backed hospital gown, Nick found himself sitting on the edge of an examination table.

"Male fox, 32, police officer, admitted for periorbital hematoma and laceration on the muzzle caused by a fight with a suspect," a familiar, but detached, voice said from the doorway, "Officer Wilde again?"

"Doctor Childers," Nick said in return.

"You just can't stay away, can you?" the wolfess in pink scrubs said as she walked into the room and looked at Nick's face. "That's quite the shiner. Let me guess: you should see the other guy?"

Nick smiled a little and instantly regretted it with a bolt a pain shot from his muzzle.

"I'm afraid he got away," he said, "for the moment."

"Let's take a look at that muzzle, Officer Wilde," Childers said, leaning over Nick and sniffing softly at his face. "No infection, but you'll need a couple of stitches."

"You can tell that by scent?" Nick asked.

"It's an old skill. If you want, we can take some tests and wait for those to come back?" the wolfess said.

Nick shook his head as a puma nurse outfitted in purple walked in carrying a tray. The most noticeable item on it was a large needle, which Childers picked up.

"This'll sting a little," the doctor said as she positioned it against next to the gash on Nick's muzzle.

"By that, you mean it'll hurt like Hell," Nick chuckled, and then flinched as the needle slid in.

"You're a big fox," she said. Numbness began to spread across Nick's nose.

That comment stopped Nick and he recalled his last visit to the doctor.

"Unlike my partner, who's a little bunny?" he asked.

"How's Officer Hopps doing?" the doctor asked, still injecting Nick with the anesthetic.

"She was fine until she started scarfing those pills you gave me - OW!" A sharp pinch in his muzzle made him look up at the doctor.

"I told you one-half, no more," she replied, pulling the needle out, "you were only supposed to give her a half."

"She started liking them a little more than just half was delivering," Nick said.

"For some mammals there's a slight risk of dependence, which is why you control the quantity of the dose and limit the number of doses to the absolute minimum," Childers explained.

"'Dependence' - that's a nice way of saying 'addicted'; do you normally hand out samples of controlled substances to all your patients?" Nick asked sharply.

"Only the ones I think can use it - and those usually turn out to be cops in the 1st. Now do you think you can shut your muzzle while I sew it up?" Childers replied, holding a long needle next to Nick's face.

Nick said nothing, but apprehensively waited for her to start.

"Tell me if this sounds familiar, Officer Wilde," Childers said as she carefully inserted the needle into Nick's numbed flesh. "Officer Hopps is tough, she can take it. You're depriving her of the opportunity to get up by herself and dust herself off. Is that the speech he gave you? You're not the first one to hear it. I got the same speech from him when I recommended Officer Fangmire get help following Antelope Tower."

The first stitch was done.

"Judy wanted to curl up into a little ball and cry when they brought her in here. You saw how she was shaking. It's too bad she didn't let herself go and sob while you held her. That would have been better for her. At least she would have been honest with her feelings."

The second stitch was done.

"So I gave you the pills to give to her. 100 mg, lowest dosage, and you were supposed to give her half of that. There were enough doses in that bottle to get her through a couple of nights, that's all. I hoped maybe she'd relax enough to break down and have that cry. Maybe she'd stop fighting herself and realize she needed to get some help. Mea culpa, Officer Wilde, but I did what I thought was right. If you want to arrest me for a handful of pills, go ahead. But if Judy doesn't get some help, she'll tear herself apart emotionally, no matter how tough Bogo thinks she is. There - finished."

The final stitch was in.

Nick stared at Childers resolutely and she stared back at him the same way.

"No more pills," Nick said in no uncertain terms, "You hand out any more of that garbage and I'll see to it that your practice is limited to the prison infirmary."

"You don't tell me how to care for my patients and I won't tell you how to catch crooks - deal?" Childers said, crossing her arms across her chest.

"I may not have a MD, but I know the difference between caring and drugging. You knew those pills were dangerous and you gave them to me, anyway, and without a word of warning about there being a 'slight risk of dependence'. If that's how you wanted to help Judy get through it, you're no better than Bogo yelling at her. Neither one of you asked Judy what's best for her, you both just went ahead and administered your medicine and felt self-satisfied that you'd both done the best thing for her. You're both wrong. At least Chief Bogo's reasons are honorable, but what about yours? Is Judy a patient or a customer to you?"

Nick glared at the wolfess.

"I hope you catch him, Officer Wilde," Childers said, tilting her head.

"Who?" Nick asked.

"The guy who gave you that black eye. I'd like to shake his hand," she said, then turned her back to Nick and walked out.

* * *

On his way out of the examination room, something caught Nick's eye: the duty schedule, written out in black dry-erase marker on a whiteboard hung from the wall.

Near the bottom of the list of names was the ghost of one that had been recently, but imperfectly, erased.

"Excuse me?" he said, catching the attention of the on-duty nurse. "I'm sorry to pry, but did Annette Sprinter work here?" He pointed at shadow of Sprinter's name on the whiteboard.

"Yes. She died last week in that accident. She was Doctor Childer's PA," the nurse replied.

"PA?" Nick asked.

"Physician's assistant. She worked with the doctor for years. Almost had her pharmacy degree, too," the nurse said. "What a tragic way to -"

"Nancy, don't say anything else. Officer Wilde, if you have any further questions for my staff, you can direct them to our lawyers," Childers said as she walked around the corner with tall hyena in a perfectly-fitted three-piece suit by her side, "one of which is here now. You've been seen to, officer, now leave."

Nick eyed the hyena, who gave him a bored look of contempt back, then turned to the doctor.

"I'm sorry about your partner," he said sincerely.

"Go home and take care of yours," Childers said, then pointed down the hall, "Exit's that way."

* * *

Nick walked down the street, his muzzle half-numb and his vision half-blinded, and wondered how Judy's day was going - it had to be better than his.

The cellphone in his pocket chirped three times. Work calling.

"Damnit, I called in sick already . . ." he grumbled, and then answered with a swipe of his finger.

"Officer Wilde here," he said.

"Nick?" Clawhauser's familiar voice said, but he sounded a little worried.

"What's up, Ben?" Nick asked.

"You said to tell you if anything was odd was going on with Hopps . . ." Clawhauswer began.

Nick stopped suddenly and asked, "Ben, where's Judy?"

"She didn't come in today, no sick-call, no one can reach her. Can you check her apartment?" the cheetah asked.

Nick was already flagging down a taxi before he said, "On it - I'll call you back!" into the phone.

* * *

Doctor Childers watched Nick walk out the sliding front doors before she turned to the hyena.

"He could be trouble," she said to the hulking creature, tapping her thigh with her paw contemplatively.

"How much trouble?" the hyena asked.

"Enough," the wolfess answered, "He seems the type who'd do something ill-considered if he thought he was protecting his partner."

"Then that's reason enough to leave him alone. If he wants to make a federal case out of a sample of Valium we just say we thought we had the consent form on file," the hyena said, "Worst case, you walk away with a fine - which our friends will gladly pay - and a warning. You've got a good thing here: don't risk it just because that fox got under your fur."

"You're always the voice of reason, Charlie," Childers said with a chuckle.

"I've got some good news, too. I heard from one of our friends at the 1st: the report is in hand," the hyena said.

"How much did that set us back?" Childers asked.

"A box of donuts, apparently . . . and another request for supplies." he replied.

"Our friends can supply half of what she's asking for. She was supposed to make a small profit to cover her risks, not run a dispensary. She'd better still be holding up her end of the deal," she said.

"There should be a fresh batch of names when we get the file," the hyena said, "Anyway, our report is in place. If Controlled Substances wants to snoop there, it's a dead-end. With nothing to go on now, I suspect they'll close the investigation."

The wolfess nodded. "That was closer than I like," she said.

The hyena smiled, "Water under the bridge, Doctor. Back to work."

* * *

When the taxi came to a stop in front of Judy's building, Nick all but threw his money at the driver and burst out of the car, hitting the sidewalk at a full run.

"Fangmire, if you . . . " he huffed, sprinting up the stairs, then throwing open the front door. After running down the hall, he stopped in front of Judy's door and stuck his paw into the Ficus, grabbing the key she kept hidden in the plant. His hands were trembling as he jammed the key in the lock, turned it and flung the door open.

"Judy!" he yelped.

The form of his rabbit partner was sprawled out on her bed, still dressed in her uniform. Her mouth was wide open and a thin trail of drool leaked from it and down her cheek.

"No, no, no," he gasped and ran over to her side and put his ear up to her chest.

Her heart was beating strong and steady.

He pulled his head away and blinked.

A weird noise came from her mouth, rising and falling with each breath, and after a few seconds, Nick was able to identify it:

She was snoring. Loudly.

He closed his left eye and breathed a huge sigh of relief, then sat on the edge of her bed and looked at the clock on her nightstand. "12:35" it read.

Reaching back, he gave the rabbit's shoulder a shake. "Hey, wake up, Fluff . . ." he said feeling completely foolish for the panic that'd overtaken him just a moment before.

Judy woke, startled, and looked at Nick.

"Nick - what're you doing here?!" she asked in surprise.

"Good morning to you, too, Carrots," he said, "or afternoon, as the case may be."

He held up the clock to show Judy.

"Oh, no!" she said in alarm, "I've got to get to work!"

"You're dressed for the occasion," Nick said.

Judy looked down and saw she was still dressed in her uniform.

"And I'm guessing by the smell of yesterday's Chinese food on you, you haven't had a shower, either?" Nick asked.

Judy wondered what else he could smell and cautiously glanced over to her nightstand, expecting to see the pill bottle sitting there, incriminating her. It took her a second to realize she'd put it back in her purse the night before.

"I'm sorry, Nick, I guess I was more tired last night than I thought I was. It's a good thing we didn't go out after all . . ." she said, then winced inside. In the bright light of day, the previous night's lie felt like a venomous stain on her heart.

She looked up at her partner and for the first time saw his black eye and stitched muzzle.

"Nick, what happened to you?" she asked, reaching up to touch his muzzle.

"I tripped on those damned stairs going down to the motor pool," he lied, "Took a real dive, too. I'll be ok." He smiled at Judy. "How about you take a shower and we go to lunch? We haven't had a day off together in forever, and since it's already after noon . . ."

'No reason to worry her with the truth,' Nick thought to himself.

As she looked at Nick's swollen eye, Judy felt a terrible pang of guilt.

"I'm sorry about last night," she said, issuing an apology of omission.

"It's ok, Fluff," the fox said tenderly, "you needed some time for yourself. It's nothing to be sorry for." He half-smiled at her, the right side of his face rendered immobile from the anesthetic.

Despite the comical look on Nick's face, Judy didn't laugh. Instead, she felt a wave of guilt and self-loathing break over her, powerful enough to make her nauseous.

"Nick, I -" she started to say.

Nick just looked at her with his goofy half-smile.

Judy's words faltered as she looked at him. He was so much to her: her partner, her best friend; they'd been moving towards something closer than that. She suspected he loved her, and she knew that she loved him. All she had to do was keep talking and she could put a knife right through his loving heart: "Nick, I stood you up last night because I was taking those pills you hate." And that would end everything right there. She knew then that the guilt she carried would be hers and hers alone.

She began to shake, and then she quickly covered her face with her bandaged paws before the first sob hit her.

He didn't say anything; Nick just gathered her into his arms and held her close while she cried.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry . . ." she sobbed over and over.

"It's not your fault, Judy. Shhhh . . . not your fault," the fox said, trying to comfort her. "It wasn't your fault,"

She looked up at him, her wide violet eyes wet with tears.

"The accident wasn't your fault, Judy. You did everything you could," Nick said sympathetically.

She nodded weakly.

For a few minutes, he held her in his arms, hugging her tightly, until the sobs subsided.

"You go take a shower and I'll meet you at our favorite falafel place in a little bit. There's an errand I need to run before tomorrow. Will you be ok?" he asked.

She nodded again.

Nick put her back down on the bed, then got up.

"See you in just a little bit, Carrots." he said and walked out the door.

As soon as the door closed, Judy grabbed her purse and opened it. The black Scent-Ex bottle was still there, a quarter full of pills. She took the bottle out and held it between her paws. The bottle seemed heavy, but she wasn't sure if it wasn't the weight of guilt she was feeling.

"Judy, you dumb bunny," she muttered angrily to herself.

With that, she stuffed the bottle into her nightstand drawer and slammed the drawer shut.

Out of sight, but not out of mind.

* * *

Author's note: Shorter chapter this time, but I wanted to get something out there for all the people who've been patiently awaiting something new. Poor Judy! She's a strong bunny, but is she strong enough to help herself? What are Childers and that hyena lawyer up to - has Nick tripped over something bigger than just a little low-level drug dealing? What about Fangmire and his hold over Bogo; what's up there? Lots of questions to be answered, and I hope you'll keep reading to find the out what happens next!

(Little hint: if you hate Fangmire now, you haven't BEGUN to hate him enough!)

Thanks to everyone who sent me comments, suggestions, props (and razzes!). I appreciate every one of them and every person who took the time to read this. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Special Hello to my "trashy" friends, too - you guys are the best!


	4. The 3,000 buck Story

"How's it hanging, wolf!" Francine called out, nearly tipping over the remains of her fifth beer.

"Like you have to ask," Fangmire smirked.

"Hush," Francine teased, "or everyone'll want a turn."

"Jealous?" the wolf asked sarcastically.

"Only if Wolford starts getting on top," Francine snarked back.

Fangmire ignored the dig. "Well, you oughta be: I'm rollin' large tonight," he said cockily.

"Find a fiver in the gutter, Big Roller?" the elephant asked.

"Three large, courtesy of my new bestest friend and partner," the wolf said with a self-satisfied smile.

Francine looked at him suspiciously, not sure that the wolf was messing with her.

"Why would Wilde give you three grand after you almost broke his nose?" she asked.

* * *

FIVE HOURS EARLIER

Fangmire munched on a cold Bug Burga and leaned against his cruiser, watching traffic roll by on Lion Way. Nick had told the wolf to meet him there just after lunch and with the completion of the burga, Fangmire decided lunch was over and Nick was late - one more thing to take out of the fox's hide when the chance arose. He was just about to call Nick when he spotted the fox walking down the street, head down and hands in his pockets.

"The affect of a loser," Fangmire said cheerfully to Nick, observing the fox's downcast looks.

Nick looked up and Fangmire faux-gasped.

"Stitches? I barely touched you, you cry-baby," Fangmire said.

"I want to apologize for what I said yesterday, about your mom . . ." Nick started.

"Well here's something novel, at least. Sorry you huwt my feewings?" Fangmire asked sarcastically.

"I'm sorry I stole from your family," Nick continued. He pulled a thick white envelope from his pocket. "Three thousand. Everything I have. That should make up what I took from your mother, with interest."

Nick extended the envelope to Fangmire, who looked at it with surprise before taking it. He opened the enveloped and riffled through the starchy bundle of newly-minted cash, the kind of cash a bank dispenses when you close the savings account that your mom opened when you were in the 5th grade.

"I take this and we're even, that's how this works?" Fangmire asked, still captivated by the sheaf of bills.

Nick shook his head. "You know that's not my intent."

Fangmire chuckled a little.

"See, Nick, ideas aren't your friend: you have them rarely and treat them poorly when you do. You think you can buy me off for three grand?"

Nick looked into Fangmire's eyes resolutely.

"I'm not trying to buy you off, Fangmire. I'm sorry for what I did. I'm sorry for what I said and I'm sorry for the pain I caused your family. I'm hoping this can make up for that," Nick said, "If you can't accept that, just give me the money back."

Fangmire openly laughed and slid the envelope into his front pocket.

"Ohhh, that rabbit really got to you, didn't she, Slick?" Fangmire said, "After walking behind her a few times, I can see how, too."

Nick gritted his teeth and swallowed hard. He wasn't going to take the bait for a second time.

"Not even a growl?" Fangmire continued. "How cute: she's got you thinking you can really just slip into a blue uniform and suddenly you're not Nick Wilde, con-artist and all-'round vulpine sleeze, anymore. Nope, now you're Officer Wilde, stalwart pillar of the community and proud representation to foxes everywhere. You can believe that all you want, Wilde, but just because you've grown to like the smell of your own BS that doesn't mean the rest of us don't think it stinks."

"You're a broken record, Fangmire. Give me the money back if you can't accept the apology," Nick said forcefully.

"I'm not like you, Wilde; I don't take and then give nothing in return. I accept your 3,000 bucks in exchange for this: a simple story.

"I don't need your story, Fangmire; give me the money," Nick said, trying to force the anger from his voice.

Fangmire smiled at the stewing fox.

"Oh, but you do, Nick: you very much do. Listen and learn:

"When my father found out you duped his darling, beloved wife out of the family savings, he did not get mad. My father was not an emotional man. He was a mechanical engineer and a man who believed that all problems come with a solution. You just have to find it: the right one and the only one. So when presented with this particular problem, he knew exactly how to solve it."

Fangmire looked at Nick with a wan half-smile. "How do you think he solved that problem, Nick?"

Nick shook his head in irritation.

"Here's where you get your money's worth, then," Fangmire said, "He knew that if he beat my mother, she would take it like all the other beatings he administered over the years. He knew he had no leverage there. And without leverage, all efforts are pointless. The man understood leverage with absolute clarity. He knew with the right lever, you could move the most immovable of obstructions. And what greater lever is there than love? Especially the love of a mother for her first-born son. All problems come with a solution, Nick, and he'd found his."

Fangmire looked at Nick with feral hate.

"By the time the ambulance arrived, I'd been convulsing for about five minutes, or so the police report said. Five days later, when I could open my eyes again, my father was in jail and my mother was living with my grandmother. For the longest time, my vision was blurry. But then I woke up one morning I saw everything with perfect clarity. It was right then when I realized the brilliance of what my father had done: he'd taught me the most important lesson there is. You know what that lesson was, Nick?" Fangmire asked.

Nick couldn't say anything as he looked at the wolf in dismay. The animalistic hate in Fangmire's eyes turned into a hard stare.

"My father taught me that leverage is everything: you don't hurt the people who hurt you, you hurt the ones they love," Fangmire said coldly.

Nick looked at the wolf in disbelief.

"You're a psycho, Fangmire, a textbook psycho."

"I have leverage and you don't. I'm not done with you by a longshot. The ones you love, Wilde, you can't protect them all. But thanks for the three grand, anyway."

* * *

"3,000 dollars for that line of BS?" Francine asked delightedly, clapping her elephantine hands together.

Fangmire was not smiling.

"I'm glad my personal pain could bring you joy," he huffed.

"You're so full of crap that your eyes are brown," the elephant laughed.

Fangmire quickly changed the topic. "About that truck?" he asked.

"Change of plans, thanks to your partner," Francine said sourly.

"This should be good. Let me guess: some indignation over a prescription to Judes?"

"He went in to get his boo-boo sewn up and ran into our mutual friend. There was a bit of a tete-a-tete on the subject of Judy's healthcare followed by a threat to have the good doctor thrown in jail.

"Nothing that hyena lawyer can't handle," Fangmire said.

"That's not the problem. He got snoopy about Sprinter and the doc freaked," Francine said. "She 86'd him from the ward, but she wants to shut things down until she's sure he's done playing Junior Detective."

Fangmire shook his head dismissively. "It was an accident, alright? There's nothing to worry about."

"If it was an accident," Francine asked, "why do you need this?"

She pulled out a folded pink form from her breast pocket: the Sprinter's accident report.

"To make sure it stays an accident and I still want those pictures," Fangmire said.

"I'll bet you do," Francine said.

* * *

FOUR HOURS EARLIER

Judy poked at her falafel and waited for Nick's arrival. The day was gloriously sunny, but the sunshine did nothing to brighten Judy's mood. She felt weary and disconnected; rudderless. Leaning on one elbow, she poked her plastic fork into the bed of lettuce under the four balls of steaming falafel. A nibble nearly brought on a full revolt from her stomach, so she pushed her lunch away and sighed heavily.

Nick was late and for some reason she couldn't put her finger on his tardiness irritated her to the point where her fur was almost bristling. In fact, everything on this bright, sunny afternoon seemed to irritate her: the kids laughing at the park across the street, the scent of her lunch, even the cloudless sky - all of them seemed to conspire to needle her. Instinctively, she reached into her purse for the Scent-X bottle; it wasn't there. Her ears shot up and she started to frantically dig through the contents of her bag. Her breathing quickened and a sense of panic rose in her mind. She was about to upend her purse on the table when she remembered that she'd put the pills in her desk drawer before she left. A deep feeling of relief replaced the panic and she exhaled a heavy breath. Her apartment wasn't far away. If she ran really quick, she could . . .

She could what?

"Judy, what are you doing?" she asked herself.

She knew the answer already and it terrified her. Despite the warm sun on her fur, her blood ran cold. Her ears dropped as did her jaw. Two emotions rose up powerfully in her. They were unfamiliar, but she but she knew their names: shame and guilt.

Nick rounded the corner by the park, walking towards her. She didn't know if he'd seen her yet or not. She wanted to stand up and run, but from what? From Nick? Her heart was pounding now and the sense of guilt intensified as the fox walked closer. His head was down and his shoulders slumped. In a moment, he would raise his head and see her, and then he would know. He would look into her eyes and see into her heart. And then his would break.

"Run, Judy, run before he sees you," that inner voice pleaded.

She put her right foot down on the pavement and looked for a direction to bolt in.

Nick looked up just as Judy looked back at him. Their eyes locked.

She froze.

He smiled wanly at her and offered a weak wave. He was just across the street now.

She waved back, but her mind was filled with a numbing fear.

"He'll know . . ." that voice said, "He'll know and he'll hate you."

Her jaw trembled.

The fox walked up and sat just across from her. , but said nothing about it.

"Hey, Fluff," he said, and offered her a half-smile.

"Hi, Nick," she replied on auto-pilot, fighting with her own emotions.

He looked at the lunch in the middle of the table and asked, "Not hungry?"

"Stomach's a little off," she replied. The sense of dread that had consumed her began to subside and for the first time she realized that Nick wasn't himself, either. He looked weary and beaten, not at all the chipper, cheerful fox she was used to.

"What's wrong, Nick? You looked tired."

The fox looked up at Judy and again their eyes locked. Judy's heart skipped a beat, but then he looked down again. He said nothing.

"Nick?" she asked quietly. Her own concerns rapidly faded and were replaced by worry for the fox. She was actually glad to feel something else.

Nick looked up again. He looked at Judy for a long time.

Judy waited for him to say something.

"Judy, I'm in trouble and you're in danger," he finally said. There was relief in his voice, but also concern.

"What do you mean? What's wrong?" Judy asked, reaching her paw out across the table.

"It's Fangmire," he said, "he's a complete psycho."

"Fangmire?" Judy asked, confused, "He's never been anything but nice, in fact, he fought with Bogo to get you on the force."

"Because you keep your friends close and your enemies closer," Nick replied.

"I don't understand?" Judy said.

Under the warm sun, Nick told Judy everything: the punch in the patrol car, his encounter with Dr. Childers and the hyena lawyer, and finally about the money.

Judy was speechless by the end.

"Internal Affairs, Nick, you have to go to internal affairs," Judy finally said, her own concerns now totally swept aside for the moment.

"It's worse," he said, then told her about his talk with Clawhauser and McHorn.

"I don't think Fangmire would be stupid enough to try to hurt you physically, and you're untouchably clean professionally. Leverage, he knows he doesn't have any leverage that he can use to get to you," Nick said. He sounded relived now that he'd gotten everything off his chest and realized that Judy was in far less danger than he'd originally feared. "I think you're safe. He can't hurt you, so he can't hurt me. Just his little petty torments and I can deal with those. He was actually right about the value of that story: I know his game now and I know how he works."

For the first time that afternoon, Nick smiled.

"You're untouchable, Fluff. I think I know how to beat him now . . . Judy?"

The rabbit was simply staring at him with her wide, violet eyes.

"How could I have been so stupid?" she said weakly, then bolted off her seat and began sprinting back towards her apartment, her heart pounding and anger at herself filling her mind.

Nick jumped up and took off after her.

"Judy!" he called out as he started to gain on her.

Judy ran like she was being pursued by Hell itself.

"You stupid, STUPID rabbit!" the voice in her mind screamed. She rounded the corner to home and pounded up the stairs to the front door. She was frantically digging through her purse, looking for her keys, when a panting Nick caught up with her.

"Hopps, what the heck is going on with you?" he asked, half doubled over from the sprint.

Without saying anything, she kept digging until she found them. No sooner did she have her keys in paw than she dropped them on the ground. Quickly, she reached down to grab them, only to find Nick's paw on them first. He looked at her, a look that paralyzed her in place.

Her head dropped and she said simply, "Can I please have my keys?"

Nick handed them to her and she unlocked the front door.

"Come in, please," she said sadly, not daring to look at Nick again.

Nick followed her as she trudged down the hall, then unlocked her front door.

"Fluff?" Nick asked with concern.

"Please don't call me that," she replied and her answer chilled Nick.

"Judy, what did I do wrong?" he asked carefully, following her into the narrow confines of her apartment.

The rabbit shook her head. "You made friends with the wrong bunny."

That totally stopped Nick.

"What're you talking, Fl - Judy?"

She opened her desk drawer and pulled something out. Her ears and shoulders dropped at the same time.

Nick put his paw on her shoulder as he looked over the top of her head at the black bottle she was holding. It was resting in her right paw while her left paw covered the top, as if she could somehow make it vanish from existence if she could just hide enough of it from view.

"That's a Scent-X bottle," Nick said, "Where did you get that? You know those are illegal!"

As she held the bottle, she thought that she would have given her soul to have just one of Nick's hugs right then, to feel his arms around her and know that everything was going to be alright, to feel safe and loved. But she knew there wouldn't be a hug coming. Not now and maybe not ever again. She started to shake.

"I'm sorry," she tried to say, but her mouth wouldn't form the words.

Nick reached over her shoulder and slid the bottle free of her paws. She didn't try to stop him. He looked at the black, plastic bottle and gave it shake. The pills inside rattled.

"Oh, no, Judy, tell me these aren't . . .

She closed her eyes and nodded, the fist of guilt slowly crushing her.

Nick sat down on the edge of her bed and stared at the bottle.

"He knows, doesn't he?" Nick asked, feeling his hopes and stomach sink.

Judy nodded again, still facing away from him.

"Turn around, Judy."

Judy shook her head, holding back her tears.

"I need to see your eyes. Please look at me."

Slowly, Judy turned towards Nick until they were looking at each other. The sense of shame she felt was overwhelming, but she wouldn't allow herself to cry or to feel any form of self-pity. She resolved at that moment that she would take her punishment, whatever it would be, without tears.

"I didn't make friends with the wrong bunny," he said, looking directly at her, "because you and I know we're more than friends. Every time I look at you, and you look at me, I know we're more than friends. We've been dancing around this for six months, so I'm going to say what I should have said last winter: I love you, Judy."

Confusion wracked Judy's mind. "Wh-what?" she stammered.

"I love you and I forgive you," he said again, resolutely and simply.

His confession did nothing to assuage her sense of guilt. If anything, it made it a thousand times worse.

"Judy, tell me now: do you love me?" he asked.

Again, she found the words wouldn't come. Instead, she nodded slowly.

"Say it, then," he said.

Judy took a couple of deep breaths, and then said the words she'd wanted to say for so very long, and under such different circumstances.

"I love you, Nick Wilde," she whispered. Her resolution began to waver.

He stood and said, "Come here," and extended his arms. She didn't wait: she ran to him and collapsed in his arms as the first tears fell.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she sobbed over and over again, this time knowing that her apology wasn't one of omission, that she was finally being honest with him. The guilt fell away in huge hunks with each sob.

She began to feel something she hadn't felt in a long time: she began to feel like herself again.

"We're going to get through this, Judy," he said, stroking her back.

"Call me Fluff, please?" Judy asked softly as she looked up at him.

He leaned down and kissed her nose, "Fluff." He knew that things were far from ok, but for this particular moment, that didn't matter.

* * *

SIX HOURS LATER

"The folder, please . . ." Fangmire asked of the trembling Oryx across desk from him.

"Do you know how much trouble I can get in for this?" the frightened herbivore asked the wolf.

"A lot," Fangmire replied, "but not half as much as your partner. I guess we know what goes into thirteen twice now."

"Die in a fire, Fangmire."

"Almost did, walked out a hero and won the admiration of a certain chiefly water bison," the wolf smirked. "Give me the folder. Now."

Without another word, the Oryx slid the manila folder across to Fangmire, then got up and walked away, but not before saying, "You really need help."

"All I can get," Fangmire muttered to himself as he looked at the folder. "Officer Judy Laverne Hopps, Psych Eval"

He leafed through the pages until he found what he was looking for: fears and phobias. What he read brought a sick smile to his muzzle.

"Well, Miss Judy Laverne Hopps, how utterly ironic for a bunny. This is going to be fun."

The wolf closed the folder and left it on the desk, humming happily to himself as he walked away.


End file.
